


rules are made to be... bent just a little

by sarahshelena



Series: in her sestra's {sweet arms} [1]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Come Eating, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face-Sitting, Female Ejaculation, Fluff and Smut, Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahshelena/pseuds/sarahshelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>helena lives in the guest room at her sestra alison's house. and sometimes sarah sleeps over. </p><p>in the same bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rules are made to be... bent just a little

**Author's Note:**

> (minor spoiler in summary!) set during series 4, just after helena calls sarah and tells her about the twins. I wrote this bc I absolutely refuse to accept that everyone has forgotten about helena, especially the only one who was hell-bent on finding her last season. and I need to stay sane by keeping my babies happy and together

“My tummy is much bigger, don't you think so, _miy sestra_?” Helena asked.

“Yeah, your tits too.” Sarah grinned, nestling comfortably against Helena’s noticeably larger chest, “I kinda like it.” 

“I like it also,” Helena twirled a lock of Sarah's hair around her finger distractedly. 

Laying on her hip and snuggled into Helena's side, Sarah’s forearm rested against the swell of her sister’s breasts, “Sucks that we gotta wear clothes here, though,” she grumbled. 

Sestra Alison had many rules, but she'd added a few to the very top of the list for whenever Sarah visited. One of which was: clothing must be worn at all times unless changing or bathing. 

* * *

Alison had wanted them to spend most of the previous day out of the bedroom, despite Helena’s best attempts to only nap and snack while snuggling in bed with her _sestra_. But Alison wouldn't take no for an answer, and pestered them to the point where Sarah had wanted very much indeed to tell her to piss off.

Helena loved spending time with Oscar and Gemma, and loved even more to be doing things with Donnie Hendrick and Sestra Alison as well. But with only a few days to spend with Sarah and unable to enjoy every waking moment doing just that, Helena’s hands were itching to put her bossy, babbling sestra in a chokehold. 

_No, no, Helena,_ the little voice of propriety within reminded her, _you are a mother now, you walk a different path._

So Helena had swallowed her indignation at the unfairness of it, and had watched cartoons with her _pleminnyk_ and _pleminnytsya_ , and had laughed very much at the show with adventure in it and the show that was regular. 

But by the time they finished it was past lunch, and her stomach was growling so loudly, Helena thought her babies must be joining in with its protests. 

She stood up from the floor, her heavy belly making her wobble unsteadily for an instant before shuffling into the kitchen and poking her face into every cabinet, sticking her fingers in the freezer to search for ice cream bars and searching the fridge for anything with meat in it. She came up with a packet of salami, cheese slices, pickles, squeezy mustard and suddenly had a hankering for potatoes. She rifled around in the freezer but came up with nothing. 

Grumpier than before, Helena turned back to the counter with its prizes and made a sandwich using the heels of a loaf of bread, the parts that nobody else liked but she found delicious, the salami, cheese, pickles and mustard, reminding herself that with her using the last of the loaf of bread, she'd have to make use of the frozen bread from the deeper freezer in the garage. 

She still did not know how to un-freeze bread. Sestra Alison had forbidden her to use the oven, and after an incident with Helena trying to pry a blackened piece of toast from the toaster with a pair of metal tongs, that method of cooking was not allowed either. Put a tin of spaghetti and a microwave together, and there goes another food-making machine not allowed. The stove debacle was still a taboo subject of discussion in the house after Helena tried to make popped corn and couldn't find the lid for the pot. 

All in all, Helena was determined to use what methods she had at her disposal to make her foods. And what foods they were. 

Leftover pasta covered with mayonnaise and tomato sauce, lasagne topped with cream cheese and onion rings, twinkies dipped in grape jelly, tuna casserole with hard boiled eggs mashed up with paprika, twisties crushed up and sprinkled over mashed potatoes...the possibilities were endless. 

Oscar and Gemma always watched her food-making with strangely uncomfortable expressions. 

“Would you like some, _pleminnytsya?”_ Helena had asked yesterday, offering Gemma a spoonful of meatballs and antipasto. 

“No, thanks, Helena.” 

“You sure? Is good.” Helena informed her. 

“I have a tummy upset.” Gemma rubbed her belly. 

“This is not good,” Helena frowned, “I hope your tummy is happy again soon.” 

* * *

Sarah plucked absent-mindedly at Helena's shirt, “I hate that we gotta keep these on. Feels unnatural.”

“I hate this also,” Helena remarked, “When there is always clothes, there is never sex.” 

“Oh, there's still some things we can do,” Sarah said nonchalantly. 

“Tell me of these things.” Helena demanded. 

Sarah grinned, her lips stretching out over her teeth as she chuckled, “Well, I _could_...but I'd rather show you.” 

Sarah withdrew the arm that had been across Helena's belly and moved her hand to the waistband of her sister’s sweatpants, “You’re always horny right now, huh?” her fingers slipped under the elasticated material that allowed room for Helena’s growing stomach. 

“Yes,” Helena groaned, her hips twitching at the touch, “I am always wanting this. Is not nice to not have it.” 

She glowered at the memory of Alison’s very pink face upon walking in on them the day before, and the very much shouting that had followed. 

“Sestra Alison must not be having her horny taken much care of,” she remarked. 

“Yeah,” Sarah laughed, cringing at the thought, “Despite Donnie’s best efforts.” 

Helena was soon distracted by the movement of Sarah’s fingers upon her already swollen flesh, “Yes, _sestra_ ,” she gasped, “Just there, yes, is very good.” Her words came in a tense, drawn-out hiss of suppressed desire. 

“Yeah? It's good?” Sarah breathed into her ear, her palm working against Helena's clit as her fingers teased her sister’s cunt. But she never had, and never would enter her. 

“Yes, _sestra_ ,” Helena moaned, “I will come very soon,” she then gasped and twitched against Sarah, suddenly wet under her sister’s hand, “I have,” she announced. 

Sarah teased Helena's clit once more, making her gasp and exclaim in Ukrainian before drawing her hand out of her twin’s sweatpants and slipping her fingers into her mouth. 

Helena wasted no time unzipping Sarah's leather pants and tugging them until they were around her ankles. Her sestra wore no underwear. 

“See, clothes still on,” Helena giggled madly at her own cleverness and Sarah laughed with her. 

“Climb up,” Helena told her, “I make you feel good, _sestra.”_

“Nah, thanks, meathead, but you're really pregnant and I don't want to hurt you or the- _whoah, Jesus!”_

Helena had slid her arms under Sarah's thighs and hoisted her up to poise Sarah's cunt over her face, “Kneel, _sestra_ ,” she ordered, and Sarah carefully slid her legs onto either side of Helena, keeping her weight on her knees as she hovered over her sister. 

“You didn't need to go and do tha- _aaaarrghhhhoooohhhhh God!”_ Sarah cried, grasping the headboard as Helena lightly bit the plump, sensitive flesh of her labia and began to suck insistently, apparently intent on shutting her up. It certainly stopped her forming complete sentences, although it rather increased the ratio of cuss words to Alison-acceptable words that left Sarah's lips. 

“Fucking Christ, Helena…” Sarah moaned, her thighs trembling with the effort of remaining where she was, versus the crushing desperation to force those lips and tongue into where she wanted them to be. She didn't have long to wait. 

Helena delved into her sestra with her tongue, making Sarah twitch and cry out as she was penetrated by the hot, dexterous organ that plunged moistly in and out of her with the fierce intensity that Helena possessed in quantities, fucking her thoroughly, but as in everything she did for Sarah, there was an underlying sweetness to the sex they had that wasn't in the least co-dependant or pitying on either side. It was deeply satisfying in that they were each other’s other half. Sarah had never known anyone to complete her in any of the ways Helena did, sexually or otherwise. 

Helena was of a similar mind, but of different experience. She simply wanted no one else, she never had and never would. 

“Oh, god, Helena, please...” Sarah whimpered. 

Helena withdrew her tongue from Sarah's now-streaming cunt to circle her sestra’s clit with her tongue, bringing her to a shuddering orgasm, and Sarah’s come trickled warmly into her sister's mouth and dripped onto her lips; Helena passed her tongue over them and smiled contentedly, lovingly placing a kiss on Sarah's cunt and lifting her sestra to deposit her carefully on the bed beside her. 

“Now we must pretend to be not having sex, shhhh, _sestra.”_ Helena held a finger to her lips, “You were very loud, and Sestra Alison will have heard you.” 

“Then she would have busted in here already, swatting us with a dish towel or something,” Sarah grumbled, struggling back into her pants, “Cool it, meathead.” 

Helena’s eyes narrowed in mild annoyance at the affectionate nickname but she said nothing. 

Sarah lay between Helena’s legs on the bed, “How're the little sea monkeys in there?” 

Helena pulled up her shirt and gently poked her jutting-out bellybutton, “They are fine. And are not fighting, which is good,” she smiled, tracing her fingers over the curve of her belly. 

Sarah touched her lips to a spot just under Helena's bellybutton and began placing soft kisses on her sister's swelling stomach. She spoke, her voice slightly muffled by Helena's skin, “Have you thought much about what you wanna name ‘em?” 

“Yes. But it is a secret.” Helena looked down at her twin and gave her that lopsided grin that Sarah so adored. 

“A secret? Yeah?” 

Helena nodded solemnly. 

“All right, then, I get it,” Sarah stroked her sister's stomach lovingly, imagining the identical infants curled up safely within Helena's womb, maybe even holding hands, “I was just wonderin’.” 

Sarah's hands splayed out over Helena's belly, where her hip bones would be jutting out through the translucent skin, were it not for the babies that grew quietly within. Her lips moved softly over the flesh, and the mass of scars that patterned the white. Some were thin and delicate like feathers, others were thick, twisted and dark. 

Sarah loved them all, and hated them. They made her sister who she was. 

“I love you,” she whispered, her forehead pressed to her sister's pregnant belly. 

Helena smiled, “I love you also, _sestra_.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos are lovely but comments make my day
> 
> thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.
> 
> come see me at my fanfic blog and send me prompts and shite - sarahshelena.tumblr.com


End file.
